


Caldera

by sittingoverheredreaming



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/F, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 10:51:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10695510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sittingoverheredreaming/pseuds/sittingoverheredreaming
Summary: While Michiru has visions that foretell Haruka's death, Haruka plans a surprise trip.Written for the April 2017 Same Prompt Party, Haruka and Michiru go to Europe.





	Caldera

Michiru leaned back and watched the steam rise up off her tea. It danced with the first glimmer of sunlight peeking through the curtains as she tried to calm her still racing heart. She couldn't stay in bed in times like this. She couldn't listen to Haruka snore and feel her warm body with the memory of the lifelessness to come still on Michiru’s skin. It was always jarring to come out from a vision. Now, though, it was unbearable. Michiru would almost-- _almost_ \-- rather stay in the future where Haruka was lost than come back and look at what she could not save.

She spent these mornings picking through what she saw, trying to find something she'd be able to change, always knowing there was nothing. Rei had mentioned, attempting to be offhand in her particular way, that she had seen things too, and in her particular way all she let onto was that Usagi would be okay. It was the only thing that Michiru ever despised Rei for, that stubborn loyalty to the princess. Michiru would throw her to the fire if it would mean saving Haruka, if it would be anything to her but a different damnation.

"Michi..."

Haruka padded into the living room and Michiru fought to keep her breath from catching. She stood in that first sliver of sun on the carpet, feet in fuzzy pink slippers that Mina had bought her as a joke and that Haruka loved without any hint of irony. Her long white tee all but covered her boxers, her hair was mussed with sleep, she looked so ordinary but so painfully alive that Michiru could do nothing but dig her fingers into the underside of her leg.

Haruka rubbed her eyes. "You're up too early. I miss you."

"I haven't gone anywhere, love."

"But you're not with me." Haruka sat at the foot of the armchair and nuzzled her head into Michiru's lap.

Michiru stroked her hair. She could not stay hard when Haruka was so soft. “I’m sorry, Haruka, I’ve been quite inconsiderate.”

Haruka nodded into her legs. “You have. Now I’m all sleepy and lonely and you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“And how shall I do that?”

Haruka looked up, her eyes no longer blurry with sleep. “I want to go on a trip!”

“A trip?” She had the faintest feeling she had been set up, and she could not help but smile. Haruka had surely been hanging on to the idea, waiting for the moment to spring it. “Wherever to?”

“I don’t want to say yet. Somewhere far away.” Haruka rocked back. “I know you said what’s yours is mine, and I don’t feel comfortable with that, but this is one thing I’d like help with. I want to plan us a trip I can’t do on my own.”

“Of course, Haruka.”

Their eyes met, and Haruka broke into a sheepish grin. “I promise you it’s nothing strange. I just want to surprise you. And Mina’s given me assurance my idea is something you’ll like.”

Michiru smiled and withheld a laugh. Mina’s involvement could swing broadly in either direction. They could end up at a nude beach, or worse, a tour through all the museums Michiru had been dragged through as a child. Or they could have a wonderful, peaceful vacation.

Michiru did not get a sense of which it would be until two and a half months had passed and Haruka handed her her ticket in the airport.

“I’ve never been to Greece.”

“Really?” Haruka’s chest swelled as she grinned. “Our first time will be together then.”

"Has Mina sent us to pay respects to the temple of Aphrodite?"

"She tried to convince me on that detour." Haruka laughed. "But my plan is much better."

"Is it now?"

Packing, Michiru had thought, would surely give an indication of what they'd be doing. But Haruka had been careful in her guidance. The weather had been her main point. She had not advised any dress clothes, though Michiru packed a simple black dress and pearls just in case Haruka was relying on the fact that "she looked elegant in anything."  Haruka's only requests were Michiru's woven sun hat, because she liked it, some painting supplies, and two swimsuits. Haruka, however, took swim suits on every vacation, if only to sit at the side of a motel pool.

"I suppose it's moot to ask what we'll be doing, then?"

"Very moot." Haruka kissed her cheek and lifted her suitcase. “All I’ll say is our hotel for the first night isn’t where we’re staying, I just want us rested before the surprise.”

That, Michiru was sure, was Mina’s benevolent hand at work. Judging by the tickets, they had twelve hours in the air, and then a wait in Munich for another two. Haruka was always eager, even at her own expense. “You’ve been very thorough, it seems.”

Haruka grinned. “I’ve tried to think of everything. Maybe I’m not quite there, but I tried.”

“I’m sure you did, love.”

And as they arrived in Athens nearly a day later, it truly seemed she had. A car waited for them as they stumbled out of the Athens airport; their hotel room was warm and quiet when they got in. Haruka had even reserved them a table at the hotel restaurant. Travel-weary as they were, Michiru could not help but be touched.

She tried to remember that when her jet-lag heavy sleep was broken before dawn.

“Michi, we gotta get up. There’s a ferry to catch.”

"This would of course be the one time you're up before me."

Haruka took Michiru's hand. "It's important. Get dressed with me."

A car took them to the port, where a red and white ferry welcomed a small crowd of tourists. "There's another that's supposed to be nicer," Haruka whispered as they boarded, "but this one takes three less hours."

"A good choice then."

The wind ruffled Haruka's hair as they started moving. Her knuckles went white against the rail, but she did not step back even as the shore grew distant. She was always especially handsome in these moments. Michiru was charmed by her stubborn bravery when it didn't matter. The knowledge of what would happen when it did matter, though, reared in her mind. Would that Haruka had some other trait, she might survive.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course, love." Michiru looked out to the sea. It was pure blue, like fresh acrylic on a pallet. "It's beautiful here."

Haruka smiled. "I thought you might like to paint where we're going. It's supposed to be the most beautiful place on earth."

_Then I'm glad you'll get to see it in time_.

Michiru pulled Haruka into her arms. "You're very good to me, love. What you've done is amazing."

Haruka laughed and hugged her back. "You haven't seen it yet."

"Yes, but I know you." Michiru kissed her cheek. "Whatever lies across the water is sure to be wonderful." She pulled away. “I’ll be back in a moment, love. I just need the powder room.”

In a stall, Michiru put her head in her hands. Haruka, cold, dead, and broken flashed through her mind. She’d seen her die so many times, in different ways, but was never shown a path where she lived. The future cast an unshakable shadow over the present, over what was an undeniably beautiful trip. It tainted the pure blue of the water and the pure joy of Haruka’s pride.

It felt even worse, hours later, when the ferry docked and she stepped onto what truly seemed to be the most beautiful island in the world. White square buildings speckled the hillside, leading up to a sky was the same blue as the water. Some doors and roofs were painted in a perfect echo of that blue.

Haruka slipped her hand into Michiru’s. “What do you think?”

“It’s stunning.”

“I arranged to have our bags taken to our villa,” Haruka said with a smile. “But I thought we’d go in style.”

“And how’s that?”

Haruka nodded towards a vespa rental booth. “May I take you for a ride, my lady?”

“You certainly may.” Wistfulness washed over Michiru as she climbed on a little white scooter behind Haruka. It felt like a lifetime ago that they had sped through Tokyo on that first terrible mission. She never thought she’d feel nostalgic for that time. Death hadn’t felt real then, not as a possibility for them. She watched the buildings pass as they wove through the hills. Occasionally an older local would wave with a smile that recalled their own young love. Michiru could not help but wonder if she or they were closer to loss.

The sun had begun its slow arc towards the horizon as they slowed to a stop. Haruka helped Michiru dismount and walked the vespa through the gateway of a low, white stone wall. Inside was a patio of the same stone, rising into a villa with a modest gray door.

Haruka cracked it out with a smile. “Do you want to see?”

Inside, there was simply a bed in the same white as the stone, and a small kitchenette set up with yellow flowers on the table providing the only splash of color. Beyond that, though, double doors showed a small terrace, and beyond that, the sea. Michiru found herself drawn back outside. She would indeed like to paint this place.

“It’s the caldera,” Haruka said, putting a hand on her back. “It’s actually a volcano.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Here,” Haruka pulled a sketchbook out of her sidebag. “For until our suitcases come. I know you’re itching.”

“Oh Haruka, I couldn’t possibly waste our first moments here, we should…”

Haruka laughed. “I planned this, Michi.” She pulled out a Greek phrase book. “I figured I’d use this time to try talking to people, find out what I couldn’t from the travel sites.”

Michiru almost wanted to follow her, half to watch her attempts and half to console her when she couldn’t understand a word. But for now she’d allow Haruka her pride.

She sat to sketch the landscape, but the dark lines morphed to a darker scene. Haruka, limp and broken in a fallen city. Mina behind her, turned away, cradling the knowledge of necessary sacrifice. Michiru’s own hand reaching from the bottom of the page. Too late.

Michiru tore it from the book. She could give Haruka this one trip, she could. She _would_. When their luggage arrived, she painted with an insistence of color, blues and yellows that could never see death. She painted the sun getting low in the sky, the water sparkling with evening light, the little fishing boats skirting around the shore. She painted untouchable life until Haruka tapped on the patio doors.

“I got us a little dinner, if you’d like.” She held a large paper bag in one hand and a champagne bottle in the other.

Michiru set down her brush and smiled. “What did you get?”

Haruka pulled out a deep bowl of rice, what seemed to be a roasted whole fish, and a little foil-wrapped plate of baklava. “A man at the port told me I had to get you a fish, or else I didn’t love you.”

Michiru could not help but laugh. “And do you?”

“What?”

“Love me.”

“More than anything!” Haruka abandoned the food and swept Michiru up in her arms. “I love you so much I want to give you the most beautiful experiences, right down to this fish.”

It turned out to be a rather good fish, and a good dinner. Michiru had worried Haruka might have been conned. “It seems you’re getting on well with the locals.”

Haruka flushed pink. “Well, sort of. One guy appreciated I was trying with the book and had me type in what I wanted to say into google translate. We had a whole little conversation and he told all his fishing buddies I was a good lass.”

Michiru felt a calm wash over her she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She could see Haruka struggling with unfamiliar words, see the old man being charmed, see him taking her under his wing. Haruka was soft and good and it shone through sometimes, no matter how she might hide it.

“Haruka?”

“Hm?”

“I would like to make love to you.”

The morning that followed was the first in recent memory Michiru slept through a vision. It happened sometimes, the way a nightmare may not wake you, even though the memory stays. She woke to bright sunlight and the warmth of Haruka’s body and she did not pull away. She put a hand on Haruka’s side. She could feel the long, lean muscles of her runner’s body. The slow and heavy rhythm of her breathing. Her heartbeat faint against Michiru’s fingertips.

Michiru felt suddenly that she was watching golden sand slip through her fingers, but rather than grasp at it all she could do was watch it sparkle.

She grabbed her sketchpad, glad it was in reach of the bed, and drew right atop her pillow. She kept it loose, for movement, and let the pencil lines blur to softness under her hand. It came out messy, messy in the way all her teachers would have scolded her for, but it was Haruka. Sleepy, messy Haruka. Alive Haruka. She flipped the page and did another, from memory and imagination instead of life. And another. And another. By the time Haruka stirred she had a handful of sketches-- Haruka sleeping, Haruka running, Haruka speaking to an old man about fish.

“Mmm.” Haruka rolled over to press up against Michiru. “You stayed with me.”

“I’m learning, love.” Michiru kissed her forehead. “I love being here with you.”

Haruka beamed. Sleep clung in her eyes and made her tender. “I told you you’d like the trip.”

“I do, but that’s not what I meant.” She stroked her hair. “What do you have planned for today?”

“I want to take you around one of the villages. Fira. It’s supposed to be fun.”

They took the vespa out as the morning light bounced around the hills. Every breeze smelled like the sea today. Michiru leaned close to Haruka’s back around every curve of the road. An unusual giddiness mixed with an even stranger calm inside her. They were alive. Alive. _Alive_. The word became the song of her heartbeat, the steady lyric of the rhythm. _Alive. Alive._

She felt it still as they walked along the streets of a market, Haruka walking the vespa with one hand and holding Michiru with the other. Haruka offered to buy her something from every shop, even the one selling pots shaped like melting faces. She succeeded in ignoring Michiru’s protests long enough to get a simple bracelet, made of beads that were the same white stone of every walkway, save for a single blue one, rounded into smoothness among its rough companions.

They dined facing the caldera, at a restaurant Michiru considered barely passable but Haruka loved every morsel from. They sat a long while with coffees, looking out onto the water.

“You know the myth of Atlantis?”

Michiru smiled. “That I do.” Haruka often connected ocean legends to her, sometimes even to the point of being nonsensical.

“Some people think it was based on this place. Not this island, but islands that were here before. The volcano erupted, and even though it made new islands, old ones were lost. Towns like this were lost to the sea.” Haruka looked down. “I just thought that was interesting.”

Michiru laced her fingers into Haruka’s. “You did a lot of research into this.”

“A little, yeah.”

“Well, thank you. It’s been so lovely.”

“We still have a few days before we go back!” Haruka stopped, embarrassed. “Do you really like it?”

“I really do.”

She had Haruka pose that night when they got back. As much as she was her favorite subject, Haruka did not often sit for Michiru. Now she sat on the balcony, backdropped by the hillside and sky. Her top buttons were undone just enough to let the wind catch her collar. She sat for hours as Michiru painted, only fidgeting every now and again.

“This must be boring for you.”

“No,” Haruka said, clearly trying not to move her mouth too much. “It’s fun to see you like this. You get a light inside.”

Michiru smiled. The stars were made triple in her painting, reflected in the water and mimicked by the white houses on the hills, but still they were outshined by Haruka’s eyes. “Sometimes I ache to capture you. I know I never can.”

Haruka finally broke the pose and frowned. “I think your paintings of me are beautiful.”

“But they’re only the faintest shadow of you.” Michiru hid behind her canvas, pretending to mix paint. “No matter what I do, they’re missing huge parts of you. They’re flat. You’re lovely in more dimensions than any medium can capture. But I still want to hold onto it.”

“Hold onto me.” Haruka came to her, put her arms around her. “Hold onto me, I’m here.”

“I’m trying.” Michiru buried herself in Haruka’s chest. She breathed in her scent, soap and sweat and a hint of cologne still clinging on from the morning. “I want you in more ways than I can have you.”

“Michi, you have all of me. We have each other.”

“We do.” Michiru squeezed her tighter. “That’s true. I… I just struggle sometimes. I’m sorry.”

Haruka pulled back just enough to look at her. "Do you know why I wanted to come here?" She stroked a single tear away from Michiru’s face.

“You said it was beautiful.”

“It’s more than that.” Haruka took a deep breath. "I know you and Rei see things you don't tell me about. I know Mina's prepared for things I can't even conceptualize. It all scares the shit out of me. The idea that our life and happiness could be temporary, that this whole thing is so fragile the next battle could destroy it... I don't think I'll ever know how to face that. But this place is the most beautiful place I've seen, maybe the most beautiful place in the world. And it's on top of a volcano. People live over an active volcano. The bluest sky could go grey with smoke and ash any moment, but until it does it's still the bluest. And that's maybe how I have to live my life, it'll be the happiest until it's not, but I'm happy with you now. I wanted to see this. I wanted it to tell me how to do it. And I'm still scared.  But I also feel a little peaceful. I love you, Michiru.”

She pulled out a ring, a silver band adorned with a tiny but stunning diamond. “And maybe I won't be your wife for long but if I get to for a moment, I want to for that moment. Maybe that's stupid, but it's how I feel.I want to give you all of myself, for however long I have." Haruka got down on one knee. “I planned to do this on our last night, but I’m gonna take beautiful moments when they come. That’s how I wanna live. That’s how I wanna be your wife. I want to be your wife, Michiru, I want to marry you. Will you have me?”

“Oh Haruka.” Michiru’s breath was stuck, her chest felt filled with water and light and a burst of love she could not contain. She saw the future, all at once, not the end but the rest, a wedding and a life, everything she’d have instead of everything she’d lose. They could have a life together. The end didn’t have to be the important part, not now.

“I want nothing more than to be your wife, Haruka.” She crouched to hold Haruka’s face. “I promise to give all of myself to you, to do my best to make you happy all my life.”

“Marry me, Michi.”

“Yes.”

The little diamond glinted brighter than all the stars, even as they were all outshone by Haruka’s eyes. _Alive. Alive. Alive._ Michiru felt their hearts beat as one.

 


End file.
